


Are You Ok?

by KumquatAssassin



Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: Depression, Gen, HE GOES TO SPACE, Kind of a vent fic, au? maybe, takes place probably a couple months after the accident but not that many
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-06
Updated: 2019-08-06
Packaged: 2020-08-10 06:14:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20130685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KumquatAssassin/pseuds/KumquatAssassin
Summary: Danny needs to escape. So he goes to space.





	Are You Ok?

“Are you ok.”

It’s not that he really minded the question.

It’s just that sometimes against his better judgment, he really did mind.

She and Tucker had asked him that stupid question multiple times and the answer was usually no. Of course, he wasn’t fine. Being a ghost was like having dysphoria times a thousand. No one on the planet earth would be ok with half the shit that blares in his ears, constantly. All nonsensical and fuzzy like static. Most repulsive, like nails on a chalk board. Somedays he couldn’t tell what was real.

Sometimes he thinks he’s back in reality, that he finally has a handle on things, but the next day he’s right back in.

The emptiness was just so overwhelming.

And he knows he’s allowed to not be fine, that they understand, that they ask that question because they want to know the answer, and it’s out of genuine concern.

But he couldn’t put all his problems on them all the time.

What he should’ve done was never go into that portal in the first place. Just said no when his friends wanted to go into the basement. His parents didn’t let him down there for a reason not that he cared about that. He just didn’t care about ghosts. But that lack of caring was probably what got him into this mess in the first place. If only he wasn’t such a weak person, he could make his own decisions. If he cared more, he could make his own decisions.

He should be fine.

“How are you doing?”

_I feel like a human garbage can._

Minus the human bit but human-ghost hybrid garbage can doesn’t have the same ring to it.

He gets so angry when they ask him that question, it’s disgusting. His stomach churns when they look at him, all inquisitive and nonchalant. But he can see the sympathy written all over their auras. Just another reminder of how much of a freak he is.

He hates being angry at his friends.

It hurt knowing they believed in him when he didn’t believe in himself.

“How’s it been going lately.”

It was the same words but this time the anger doesn’t come. They struck him down. He felt his inside bottom out as tears threaten to scratch their way to the surface. The tears receded quickly but the clenching itch in his chest stayed.

He felt real and it was too much.

_I shouldn’t feel guilty all the time. I deserve that much._

Very much a fleeting thought.

He forced a laugh, “you worry too much,” he said, speaking softly into his headset. “I’m fine, really.”

“mhm.” Her character blows up another alien. A quick burst of alien guts splashed on the ground of the fake world, Danny stared, frozen. The screen became tinted red.

“Ha! I finally got you dude.”

His skin was vibrating. “Good job Tuck, listen I’m going to go, I still got that math assignment and I’m really tired.”

Tuck snorted, “you’re going to do math h-”

“alright Danny,” Sam cut in, “but don’t worry about your math homework, Tucker will do it,”

“Hey!”

“Just get some rest ok?”

“alright, night guys.” He clicked out of the game and put down his head set. He stared at the display of pinks and reds; all the pixels tightly formed together to create the image of the Orion Nebula. It was the only light in the room.

Lies of omission were his new hobby and his mind was paying dearly for it.

_You don’t deserve them._

He shut down his computer but continued to stare at the black screen. Out of the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of movement. It was his Challenger model handing from the ceiling by it thin thread, spinning slowly in the atmosphere of his room. He could smell the exhaust fuel.

In the next moment he found himself standing by the window. He didn’t remember getting up from his chair. Smoke filled his eyes as they pulsate with his energy. He stared at the barest reflection but only really seeing green. The stars were so bright tonight.

There was an emptiness he should be feeling, familiar, it should be ever-present. But the energy inside him made him feel More then he’s felt in months.

He stepped through.

There was no breeze. Or, he just couldn’t feel it.

The lamplight below him hummed. That one billboard, ‘come on down to Smith Dentistry and get your smile on’ with a white smile of a mouth that sang of nothing. And the people spoke softly and loudly and shushed but it all felt so meaningless.

He needed to leave.

The stars seemed to scream at him, twirling out in front of him like a Van Gogh painting. They shined down through the doom and gloom of the night. Shining through the haze of his fucked-up body, promising more life.

Danny shot up; he couldn’t feel the wind but it was whispering to him in some ancient language he couldn’t understand.

He wished he could feel the wind in his hair.

The moving landscape was like a surrealist painting and he was the only alive thing in the painting. Locked in a movie he wasn’t a part of it.

He looked down, barely being able to make out the toy town of Amity Park.

The clouds tickled. He can hear their song and feel their dance. Planning and discussing the route that must be taken, where each water droplet falls into the cycle.

For a moment he considered going back, it would be the rational thing to do.

His whole body was vibrating and buzzing, ectoplasm wild under his skin. The equivalent of his heart beating out of his chest.

This was his dream and it was achievable now. He could really do this.

He climbed higher and higher, seeing the curve of the earth now. The incoherent whispers of the wind grew louder until it was screaming in his ear. He could tell now that they weren’t using words. But they were talking to him. Yelling at him.

A warning.

GO BACK

GO BACK

GO BACK

He wanted it to stop.

He kept going further and further, upward.

His surrealist painting changed to all black without any warning and without any fanfare. Nothing spoke to him.

It felt like he had been trapped in a bubble and now he was free.

He was floating, he tried to direction his flight but couldn’t move. He was stuck.

He looked to the earth below him, it getting smaller and smaller as he drifted further, no rhyme or reason.

He was surrounded by silence and he couldn’t go back.

But the stars shone brightly before him. And maybe, just maybe if his mind wasn’t playing tricks on him, he could hear them whisper to him.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know what this is.


End file.
